Storm's Fury Read online

  There was a hint of pain in her voice he nearly missed. It made his heart soar and crash all at once. Does it mean she wants to belong to me? On Anubis’s head, let it be so.

  She must have taken his silence negatively because she continued, her tone the definition of sarcasm, “If you want, I could get it tattooed on my forehead. Would that make you happy, Oh Mighty Anubi?” She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest again. “But guess what, jackass? I still wouldn’t be your chosen. I’d be a woman you kidnapped and slept with a couple of times.”

  “Shut up.” Fury grabbed her arm and pulled her to the path, leading down to the beach. She tried to yank out of his grasp, but he held on like a vice.

  “What are you going to do now, drown me?”

  “Don’t push me, because it’s a very intriguing idea.”

  Soft grains of sand swirled up looking like infant tornadoes, dusting over his uncovered arms and brushing kisses against his cheeks. Whitecaps rose out of the inky blackness of the Pacific Ocean and roared toward the shore, only to end in a rush of whispery suds at his feet. A family of crabs skittered across the sand and disappeared into their home, but Fury paid all this little attention as he released Stormy to her own endeavors.

  “What the hell are you going to do now?” She took a step back from him as he turned to face the ocean. “Walk on water or part the Red Sea?” Her voice was laced with such derision he could divvy it out to half the population of the Eastern United States Seaboard and still be up to his neck in it.

  “We can do this one of two ways,” Fury told her, ignoring her comment altogether.

  “Do what?”

  “I can physically show you the ankh on your body, or you can merge minds with me and see it for yourself.”

  “You brought me down here for this?” She dropped down, sitting cross-legged on a patch tall grass. “I’ve already told you.”

  He turned on her then. “It was nonsense and I don’t need to be reminded of it.” Pushing a hand through his hair, he tried to calm his ire. “Now if you’re ready to put this doubt of yours to an end, choose an option, and do it fast before I choose for you.”

  Stormy gawked up at him in incredulity, before she turned away with a contemptuous snort. “You’re an ass, Fury. I’ve already been through this with Tempest; I don’t have one.”

  “Humor me.”

  “This is getting old,” she snarled, her hands digging into the sand.

  For a brief moment he was certain she was thinking about throwing a handful in his face. He almost smiled at that. She’s a fighter to the end. I’ll always admire that about her, he thought. “You have no idea,” he agreed, though he honestly didn’t feel all that agreeable. “Humor me.”

  “No, I don’t think I will.”

  He covered the distance between them quickly, but he didn’t say a word. He simply stared down at her, anger at her brazen defiance tearing at him and demanding he force her submission. How much more patience, Anubis, how much more will I need?

  “You can stand over me all you want. It’s not going to change anything. I’m not you’re chosen. I’m your prisoner as you seem to keep proving time and time again.”

  “I’ll take that as you would prefer I show it to you physically.” Before she could answer, he held up his left hand. The air around them crackled with electricity as dark clouds gathered in the sky above.

  “What the hell?” Her words died on her lips as he brought his hand down in a fast arch. Lightning ripped through the sky, landing a few feet from them. The ground rumbled in protest. Just as quick as the disturbance started, it ended.

  Fury stepped away from Stormy, picked up the product made of sand and heat, and was back in a matter of seconds. “Take your pants off.”

  Stormy scowled up at him as if she thought he’d lost his mind. “What did you do? And hell no. If you think you’re getting anywhere near my pants, you’re sorely mistaken.”

  “You try my patience, Ambrosia.”

  “You have that wrong, asshole. You try my patience.”

  Fury exhaled a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding and moved, dropping to his knees before her. He pushed her back so she was lying flat on the ground. One hand placed on her sternum to hold her down, he grabbed the waist of her sweat pants and yanked them down below her hips. Stormy flailed and clawed at his neck and shoulders with one hand while the other swiped at his face.

  “Get off me! No, stop! Please, Fury, don’t do this! Don’t!”

  The salt of her tears stopped him dead. He looked down where she lay, her face turned away from him, her arms outstretched and pushing against his chest. Fear rolled off of her, sickening him.

  Fury scanned her body, looking for any injury he might have caused in his haste, and then his attention fell on his hand gripping the waist of her pants. His eyes roamed back up her shivering body as a sob escaped her. It was the first time he’d ever truly sensed her fear of him or what he was capable of. It didn’t matter that they’d made love before or that she’d taken the time to bathe him before she ran away.

  No, none of that mattered.

  All she knew right now was that he was capable of taking her when and where he wanted and there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop him.

  “Shit,” he growled as he pushed away from her and stood to his feet. He took a few steps back until the ocean was lapping at his heels. “I would never rape anyone, Ambrosia, least of all you. I simply wanted to show you your ankh symbol. Its location is hard to see without assistance.” He tossed the mirror he’d created from the combination of lightning and sand in her direction.

  It landed beside her.

  She rolled onto her side after pulling her pants back up around her waist. “Go away, please,” she croaked. “Just leave me alone.”

  He looked up and down the beach. “I’ve made nothing but mistakes since you bound me to you. I won’t make another one.” He took a few more steps and sat down, his legs bent at the knees, and his arms draped over them. “You don’t have to believe me, but you are my chosen. The only one I’ll ever be given. You have the symbol of the ankh, Ambrosia. I’ve seen it, I’ve kissed it, and I’ve caressed it.” He hung his head before throwing it back and gazing up at the stars with a heavy sigh. “Anubis was definitely a sadist.”

  The moon’s reflection on the water must have hypnotized him, because instead of Stormy’s soft weeping, he was listening to her even breathing. Just that fast she’d fallen asleep.

  He peered over at her back, which was turned to him, and sighed again. “I’m new to this. Any help you can give me would be appreciated.” He wasn’t sure whether he was talking to her or to gods he didn’t believe in, but he was certain he needed a touch of help from somewhere.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  It could have been the warm breeze or the feel of gentle hands brushing across her cheek that awakened her. Stormy wasn’t sure which it was as she sat up. She peered around before slipping out of the bed she was in.

  She looked around the room. How the hell did I get in here? Stupid question, Stormy. Stupid, stupid question.

  The last thing she remembered was being on the beach with Fury. He had been trying to explain to her—after his barbarian tactics to get her pants off—that he wasn’t trying to rape her. Thing was, she already knew that. But the scenario was so similar to her run-in with the MS-13s down in Houston that it had dredged up every emotion she had experienced way back then—fear, humiliation, helplessness.

  If it hadn’t been for that lost old couple…Okay, not going there. I’m just happy someone upstairs had enough sense to send help.

  It took a head shake and a few cheek slaps to pull her out of the past and back into the here and now and the room she was in.

  There was a large bay window on each side of the bed, both open wide. Sheer white curtains billowed like ghosts on the gentle ocean breeze. Wooden candleholders, complete with tall ivory candles, were lined up on a bamboo and rattan dresser. Above the dresser
was an octagonal beveled mirror with bamboo candleholders mounted on either side.

  She stepped to the mirror, spared a moment to stare at her reflection, and then noticed that set within the top of the dresser was a wooden basin filled with steaming water. A bar of sweet-smelling soap sat to the left of the basin and a dry face towel to the right.

  Fury? She remembered the feel of something brushing against her cheek. His lips? The backs of his hands?

  Turning away from the dresser, she took in the room for a third time. There was a wide rimmed-back wicker chair sitting in the far corner near the right window. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she knew he had sat there, watching her as she slept.

  It was sweet in more ways than one, but she had to get back to her life and he had to get back to his. Their fairytale, like all fairytales, had to come to an end, but there would be no happily ever after for either of them.

  Stormy turned and dipped the face cloth in the basin. After making sure it was saturated, she wrung the water out and took to the task of washing up. The faster she made him understand that they had no future together, the better.

  At the first sign that Stormy was about to wake, Fury had left the room, not wanting to cause any more strife between them. He’d sat for hours on the beach with her as she had slept, watching the tide rush in and then roll back out to sea.

  He had weighed his options. He could complete their binding without her consent, and continue to hold her against her will, while he begged her continuously to accept him. Or he could set her free and wait for death.

  If he chose the latter of the two and allowed her the freedom she sought, he would be condemning himself—and also her, although to a lesser extent. It wasn’t as simple as “if you love something you let it go.” Anubis wasn’t at all the romantic type. If he allowed Stormy to leave him or if he turned his back on her, his heart would cease to beat once more, his lungs would no longer have need for air, and his power would vanish. Within six phases of the moon, he would cease to exist, returning to the serum of blood and bone from which he came.

  Any man in his right mind would choose the obvious and save himself, but Fury had never been one to do the obvious. He didn’t want to take her will from her as she had done to him the moment she uttered the binding words. He didn’t want a prisoner. He wanted his chosen, his lover, the woman who wanted nothing more than to walk beside him, lie with him, and to love him.

  He sighed, his face tilting upward as snow white clouds drifted across the sun. If he played his cards right, his last days could be spent settling things with Terroar and cutting down as many of the Yazaron as possible.

  Why are you so willing to give up? This isn’t like you. It was Crul, but Fury could feel Tempest’s soft touch in his mind as well, soothing him.

  Why are you in my head? Is there no such thing as privacy anymore? At some point during the night he must have lowered his mind block. He couldn’t remember exactly when, but since they were now in his head, it had to be true.

  You have to know that if you walk away from her, she will be left to live half a life, Crul added via their link.

  And you have to know that your opinion is worthless. Fury was well aware of what would happen to Stormy if he turned his back on her; he didn’t need to be reminded of it.

  If he left her or let her go, she would live, but she would no longer smile, laugh, or find pleasure in the simple things in life. Her life would become similar to that of the walking dead. It would be a hollow existence of depression and despondency, her soul torn forever. She might very well reach out for comfort with another. But no matter how hard she tried or how good a pretender she was, she would never find it, though she would always remember when she had had it—with him. Within a few years, suicide would be her only way out.

  To give up on her would be like going against Anubis’s edict. You must protect her, Fury. You must love her and make her love you, Tempest chimed in, her tone soft, pleading. You have to remember we’re human women. We don’t know what you know. We think in human terms.

  He had no reply as he watched Crimson, his female Italian Cane Corso pup, lope out of the tree line to his right, a large hog locked between her teeth. Crimson settled down in the shade of the tree and dove into her meal without hesitation.

  Three days isn’t long enough to make anyone love you, Fury finally said. Hell, three days isn’t enough time for shit to dry.

  No, it’s not, but it’s all we have. We can’t lose you, Crul replied.

  Tempest added, And we can’t lose her. She was quiet for a long moment before she continued, I can’t believe I’m going to say this, and I’m by no means an advocate for it, but you’ll have to complete the binding without her consent.

  Not liking the direction the conversation was headed in, Fury asked, How’s Hatrid?

  He’s healing, but he doesn’t understand why you attacked him the way you did. He doesn’t see that what he did was wrong, Tempest answered. I’ll speak with him more when he fully heals.

  She withdrew from Fury’s mind with reluctance, but Crul remained as if leaning against an imaginary wall, waiting patiently for his chance to speak.

  What I did to Tempest was unthinkable, Crul told him. I should have had patience, I should’ve given her time, but as you now know, time is not something that we have. I know you don’t want to take Stormy’s free will from her, and for that I commend you, but you have to at least try, Fury.

  Try what?

  The truth.

  Fury stared out at the horizon. Seagulls dipped into the water only to rise again a few feet away from a school of porpoises as waves crashed against the beach, sounding like a drum solo. I’ve never lied to her.

  No, but you haven’t actually been forthcoming either. I don’t want you to take a page out of my book with Tempest, but you can’t walk away, Fury.

  Fury scratched his head and leaned forward to balance his elbows on his knees. Anubi didn’t feel fear or reluctance. If something needed to be done, it was done—damn the consequences. So then why was he so reluctant? He knew what had to be done. He knew, and still he was afraid to act.

  Fury stood up and headed deeper into the yard. He needed time to think and time to devise a plan of action. I have to go, he said into his and Crul’s mental link. Without waiting for an answer, he severed all contact to the mainland as he broke into a run, headed for the tree line.

  Springing into the air, he flipped and shifted midway, landing on four paws without breaking his stride. Tail iron rod straight, head down, and ears pinned back, the oversized jackal disappeared into the darkness of the forest.

  Stormy stood inert. She brought the back of her hand up to her mouth and bit down to stifle her cry of shock.

  Fury had done some amazing things over the past few days, but this was not possible, was it? His tattoo had grown and stretched, covering his body like an ink-black glove before somehow transforming him into a dog. No, it wasn’t a dog. It was more vicious than that. She’d always suspected it wasn’t a normal tattoo, but she’d never imagined anything like this.

  Uncertain of exactly how long she stood staring off in the direction the altered form of Fury had disappeared in, Stormy pushed through the screen door and walked out onto the wraparound porch.

  Her feet moved, one in front of the other, carrying her down the stairs and into the yard, but her head stayed trained on the spot where he had vanished.

  Surprise should have been the last thing she felt right now. For heaven’s sake, the man could travel ridiculous distances in the blink of an eye, he could read minds, talk telepathically, control fire and lightning, and who knew what else?

  As much as she wanted to deny it, she had to accept the fact that he was anything and everything but human. He was evasive and mysterious. He tried her patience and tempered her need to run. And above all else, he made her feel safe, even as he scared the shit out of her.

  He was truly the antithesis of what she expected him to be.

&nbs
p; Stormy sat down in the middle of the lawn and stared off into the trees, trying to recreate the beast Fury had become. Half her mind told her to go after him, but the city girl in her was adamantly against that idea.

  Was it weird that she was even more intrigued by him? Shouldn’t she have been running to the ocean and swimming for dear life? She should have been so terrified she couldn’t see straight, but she wasn’t. She was, without a shadow of a doubt, thoroughly and undeniably awed.

  She wanted to see him again, to talk to him, to have him explain every single thing to her in slow, elementary terms. She wanted him to change again right in front of her and then run her fingers through his coarse black fur.

  I‘ve lost my ever-loving mind!

  All the things he had been telling her about his kind, and she had tried to deny even after she witnessed the supernatural feats he could do were true. She’d scoffed at the story Tempest told her about Anubis and Anput and told herself it hadn’t occurred, but she couldn’t deny this any longer.

  I won’t deny this. I won’t try to justify it. He is exactly who he says he is, she decided.

  Stormy closed her eyes, envisioned Fury standing before her, and did what she promised herself she would never do again. She spoke to him in the way of the Anubi. I need you.

  Is everything all right? The voice was gruffer than Fury’s—more animalistic, but it was he. She could hear the panting of the beast, feel its paws as they pounded the ground, and damn near taste the breeze as it blew across its muzzle.

  Yes. Her heart thundered with excitement. We…we need to talk.

  She could feel Fury’s mind working to figure out what was wrong as he veered off his current path and doubled back.

  Unlike all the times before, she didn’t withdraw from his mind. She stayed with him, feeling what he felt: the exhilaration, the power coursing through his body, the desire to lie with her again, and the desperation for her to accept him for who and what he was.